


Persephone

by littlegeniussherlock



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: F/M, I promise, Jane loves Sebastian, Jim loves Jane, Other, Siblings, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-18
Updated: 2019-03-18
Packaged: 2019-11-23 10:15:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18150530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlegeniussherlock/pseuds/littlegeniussherlock
Summary: Jane Moriarty would do anything for her brother, not short of taking her own life so he doesn't have to. Jim Moriarty is a selfish man, but he's clever so who can blame him?





	Persephone

Her eyes drink in the city like she is Tantalus and the water she has been desperately yearning for has finally passed her lips, and she is drinking deeply. Gulp after gulp of the cool refreshing liquid, and the itch has finally been sated and she is alive again. But reality always comes crashing down, and the curse was just playing tricks on her head and there wasn’t any water, but an illusion. Which is in the form of her brother asking her to die, for him. She hadn’t thought much of it when her brother had come to her, asking if she would play him in a meeting, because this wouldn’t be the weirdest request from him. Not by a long shot. Some part of her fell in love with the danger, with the fast paced criminal world, and most importantly: with Sebastian Moran. Her brother’s words had sent her world crashing down around her, and it was all that stupid sniper’s fault. Her blue gaze settles on the London Eye off in the distance, and she is only vaguely aware her brother asked her a question and is now awaiting an answer.

“You want me to die for you,” her gaze settles upon her brother’s slim form where it is leaning against his desk. He offers little more than a shrug, “The final problem.”

Sherlock had met Jim Moriarty, but Jim Moriarty had been replaced by Richard Brook and Moriarty was no longer… until now. The brunette sighs, taps a cigarette out of the pack she nicked from Seb, and lights it taking a long drag. It relaxes her nerves, but only for a moment and then the anxious knot presses against her belly making her feel nauseous. Does she fear death? No, not even a little, but did she want to die was an entirely different question. No, she didn’t because she has some much left to live for and she is young, barely 27, and why should she die so that he can live… can continue on. But she isn’t going to say to say no to him, and she doesn’t. He smiles, softly, which is uncharacteristic, and he explains her role to her.

The kings last pawn on a chessboard, the last piece to be sacrificed in order for him to say checkmate. The final problem, as it turns out, is how utterly easy it is to defeat Sherlock because in the end he is predictable and in the end Jim Moriarty is unstoppable. Jane watches her brother’s face as it expresses how he’s feeling, which is excited, and as he goes through the details of her role in all of this. It will all end on a rooftop, with gunpowder on her lips and her blood painting the grey cement crimson. Jane turns her head away from her brother as she glances back at the city, his city?, their city. His hand comes to rest on the small of her back as he kisses her cheek gently, and for a moment Jane is reminded of being a child in the tender care of her older brother, but she quickly shakes the memory, and his hand, off. He doesn’t say anything and they both stare at the skyline until the sound of the door closing brings both of them back to the real world and they both turn to regard Sebastian.

“Don’t do that, you two are too alike,” Sebastian comments as he dumps his shopping bags on the island. Jane wants to smile, but she refrains and instead finds herself turning back to the window, her hands in her pockets as she tries to come up with a way to explain this to him, to Sebastian Moran the man who, despite her best efforts, has completely stolen all sense of self she has ever had. Part of her hates him for it, and that part of her is screaming at her to just turn around and walk out of the flat and never look back. Kill herself three days from now and never think twice about that crooked smile or soft Eton pronunciation.  
“Don’t be silly, Sebastian, Jane and I couldn’t be more different,” his bored tone is familiar, and the edges of her mouth quirk up into a sort of smirk and she turns to see what the two are up to. Sebastian has busied himself with putting the groceries away and is humming softly while Jim seems to have disappeared entirely. Probably finalizing your death sentence, you think bitterly.

“Jane?” 

Her head jerks up in surprise, had she already gotten so lost in her own thoughts? Blue eyes meet cold grey ones and she furrows her brow without thinking, which makes Sebastian give her a question look. What do you say to the man you love? How do you tell him you are going to die in three days and there is absolutely nothing he can do about it? Better still, how do you tell him he’s the love of your life in the first place?

“Are you afraid to die?” The question passes her lips without a conscious thought and she snaps her mouth closed in embarrassment, but Sebastian simply chuckles in response. He’s always annoyingly light hearted about most things, silver linings and all that, but now he puts down the items in his hands and steps towards the small woman until she is backed completely against the glass window and his body is flush against hers. Is this really happening, she has to wonder because she and Sebastian have never shared more than a touch or a drunken kiss or two, never anything like this. He leans down, his breath is tickling her skin and he smells like gunpowder, leather, and cigarettes mixed with his cologne, and she is hypnotized by it. His teeth graze down her throat until it is just over her jugular and he bites down, hard.

“Fearing death does little else but control us.” He turns back to the counter and resumes packing the groceries away and the moment that passed seems to be forgotten. Jane walks off with an air of annoyance about her. Her mind is whirring in a million different directions, trying to process all the information she has just obtained. But one thing keeps coming back to her, she is going to die and there isn’t a goddamn thing she can do to stop it and there isn’t anyone there to tell her to say no, to refuse her older brother. Was he really so convincing that she couldn’t even think for herself?

 

Jane wraps her hand around the cold metal and with a curious gleam in her eyes wonders if this is how Persephone felt holding those pomegranate seeds in her hands, did they feel lethal? Did she know she was resigning herself to a life in the underworld? A life away from the living? The lights glint off the gun and she can see her reflection in the smooth, silver exterior. She can’t remember ever seeing a gun this beautiful because that is precisely what this gun is… death, destruction, and beauty resting in her hand. Behind her Sebastian’s eyes are boring into her, she can see them reflected as if she were looking into a magic mirror.

“Jane… do you need to ask me something?”   
“Absolutely not, Sebastian.” It isn’t a lie, she reminds herself. He thinks she has someone that needs taken care of, but in truth she was gifted this gun from her brother and she wasn’t sure if he thought it was him being thoughtful or cruel. Both, she thinks bitterly. She places the gun back on the bed and turns to Sebastian, holding her arms out so he can get a look at her entire outfit. Her stomach flutters she watches him lick his lips, like a predator watching his prey, he circles her once and his eyes make her skin crawl. His hand finds her ass and he squeezes, hard, and she gasps softly which is met with a low rumble from Sebastian, like a tiger growling low in his chest.

Without warning his lips are on hers and she is wrapping her hands around his neck, tangling them in the short hair at the nape of his neck, and she pulls-- hard. His head is jerked backwards and she lets her lips roam down to his throat, biting and soothing but doing so hard enough to leave marks. Jane Moriarty is territorial and she wants him to remember her touch tomorrow, wants him to see her mark on him in the morning and never be able to forget the way she had coaxed those animalistic noises from within him.

Her back meets the wall, hard, and she struggles to find her breath for a few seconds which seems to have no effect on Sebastian as he continues to bite the juncture where her neck meets her shoulder. Her hands slide down his shoulders, but he quickly stops that with his hands pinning her wrists to the wall on either side of her body, which makes her whimper softly against his warm mouth. 

“Well, well, well, what have we go here?” Sebastian practically jumps away from you, his face scrunching into something that looks guilty… he… oh. He looks at Jim who responds with a raised eyebrow, with a look that Jane has been on the receiving end of on multiple occasions, you’ve upset daddy, again. Suddenly white hot fury wells up inside Jane as she glares at her brother, she’s never been this angry with him before and it scares her. Her hand closes around the cold metal promise and she shoves it into the band of her skirt. Without a second word she breezes past the pair of them and ignores their calls after her.

She has a job to do, doesn’t she?

The rooftop of a hospital is hilarious, the only thing that could be better would be the roof of a funeral home. Jane Moriarty becomes the villain of Sherlock Holmes’s story and she can’t help but laugh, which only adds to the image of insanity she has created for him. 

“It was easy, in the end, Sherlock. You’re deliciously gullible for a man who fancies himself a genius. Much like you’re very loving for a man who calls himself a sociopath.”

Sebastian laughs in her ear. He is in the building opposite on one of the floors with his rifle resting on the tripod, she can imagine him now, the picture of focus. His laughing stops as her hand closes around Sherlock’s and her lips close around the barrel of the gun. 

“Jane, no, do-”

A gunshot echoes off the buildings, and a body thuds heavily to the ground, and untold joke still betwixt their lips. Gunpowder comprises the air that was once in her lungs, and crimson paints her lips, much better than any lipstick. Her blue gaze is hollow, empty, and the hands shake as she tuck her into the body bag, seemingly reverently. She has never been handled with such care, and never will be again.

The pomegranate seeds have been swallowed, her face sealed, and she laughs from the underworld, because she used to think this isn’t what she wanted.

We both know that isn’t quite true.

**Author's Note:**

> Jane is a character I created. I like the idea of Jim having siblings, it makes him a bit more human in my opinion. I hope you all enjoy this!


End file.
